My Pops

Yes, just like everyone else, I'm going to talk about my dad.

Growing up, I thought that every dad was like my dad.  I thought that every dad could just go outside and build a shed if he wanted to. I thought that every dad could build a deck, finish a basement, put in a sidewalk, and build a bridge.  I thought that all dads could build a computer and fix any mechanical problem presented to them.  I thought that all dads could fix up cars and I thought that all dads could identify any type of car, including the year, with just a glance.  I thought that every dad had a goatee, and could speak with as  powerful and stern of a voice as my dad can when he's making a point.  I thought that every dad had his own wood shop down in the basement and owned every tool you could imagine, and I always thought that every dad knew everything about just about anything.  But nope--that's just my dad :)

There's not a single exaggeration in that paragraph. I remember one of my friends telling me a few years ago that sometimes she wished that she could have a mini Ryal Cox in her pocket at all times because he can fix anything and everything.  Seriously, there is no other man within 50 miles of my parent's house in Delaware that is called more often than my dad for help with pulling a car out of a ditch, installing something, fixing something--my dad is really the go-to-man. How lucky am I to have grown up under his care for 18 years?  And still now, I'm almost 21, I'm married, and my dad continues to watch out for me.  He's very sneaky, and he does it in silence, but I notice the things that he does and I appreciate them so much-probably much more than he knows.

My dad is the best, and even though to this day, all of my childhood friends will claim "Brother Cox is so scary!", he has one of the most generous hearts of anyone I know.

Love you dad!